Good Old Fashioned Advice
by Oro-han
Summary: Set during their high school years, Gladio invites Prompto over for a training session and to give him some friendly dating advice.


Prompto sat on the floor, leaned back and trying to catch his breath. He had had his ass thoroughly kicked by Gladio who had suddenly invited him to train today. Prompto kind of regretted accepting.

He was armed with rubber bullets, not exactly lethal, but he had been assured that they hurt like hell, and Gladio had a big fake broad sword. The sword definitely hurt like hell, he had a couple of bruises and welts that would be reminding him how much he had to improve for a while to come.

"It's not even a fair fight." Prompto said, rubbing his side where he could feel the big raised welt forming under his shirt. "I don't stand a chance against you."

"You've got a lot of room for improvement," Gladio agreed, "but, you're not terrible."

Prompto took that to be a compliment, and grinned to himself. "I'll get better."

Gladio nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a towel. It was quiet between them for the most part, they didn't know each other very well, and usually only spoke when Noct was around. Prompto was pretty sure this was the first time he'd been alone with Gladio since they'd met.

After a few moments of silence, that seemed to stretch out now that they weren't actively trying to kill each other, Gladio finally spoke. "So, you like Noct?"

That was a weird question. "Of course, he's my best friend."

Gladio shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that, I mean do you _like_ Noct?"

Prompto felt his face heat and he suddenly found a spot on the floor very interesting. "Um, well… I…" He had no idea how to answer that question.

"You don't really need to say." Gladio stood up, offering a hand to Prompto to help him off the ground. Prompto accepted the hand. "It's pretty obvious." He hefted his sword, indicating it was time for another round of Whack-A-Prompto.

"Is it?" Prompto asked embarrassedly. Checking to make sure his gun was loaded and ready. Even if he was getting his ass kicked he found it was really pushing him to get better at hitting a moving target, and to reload without getting a face full of fist or an anything full of wooden sword.

"Yup." Gladio rushed forward, moving faster than anyone should be allowed to with a weapon that size, swinging in a broad arc.

Prompto ducked and rolled out of the way, coming up to a knee and firing two or three rounds. Gladio was quick and seemed to know what Prompto was going to do before Prompto knew, and sidestepped coming down in a powerful swing. Putting his weight on his front foot and launching himself backwards, Prompto felt the rush of air against his face where the sword passed dangerously close.

"Have you told Noct yet?" Gladio continued to press his advantage, forcing Prompto to dodge and move back, not able to focus on firing.

"No!" Prompto barely dodged another powerful swing, the tip of the sword tugging at the fabric of his shirt as he spun around the thrust, firing off a few rounds as he completed the turn. "Why would I do that?"

"Maybe." Gladio grunted in pain as one rubber bullet hit him in the upper arm and another in the shoulder. "Maybe because you don't stand a chance if you don't say anything?"

Even though he'd hit Gladio it was no cause for celebration, and Prompto was immediately back on the defensive. "I don't stand a chance anyway." Gladio grazed his thigh, causing the leg to buckle slightly before he could recover and try to dash around to flank the other.

"Don't be so sure." Gladio took another two or three rounds, charging Prompto, and catching him square in the stomach, sending tumbling over backwards to the ground, the breath knocked out of him.

Prompto lay on the ground, clutching his abdomen and gasping for breath, and Gladio leaned on the hilt of his sword, tip pressing into the thick foam training mats. "I think you have a better chance than you're giving yourself credit for."

"Why?" Prompto wheezed out, eyes watering from pain and lack of oxygen.

Gladio straightened, hoisting his weapon up to rest on his shoulder as he thought for a moment. "Intuition. Now get up, let's go again."


End file.
